My Cultivation Starting from Archery

"The boy sure has perseverance!"

Wen Zhi exclaimed with emotion.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The Selected Point exam venue isn't a marketplace; naturally, not just anyone can enter, not even a Martial Saint is allowed to approach at will.

Wen Zhi and Shao Yujing both came over on a whim, without going to the designated viewing area, and were barred by many Armored Soldiers wielding spears, so they could only watch from a distance.

By chance, Wen Qiushi had his back to them, so they couldn't see what was happening to his face.

They could only tell that Chen Sansi's spear technique was extremely fierce, quickly gaining the upper hand in this martial arts competition and showing signs of a one-sided battle.

But Wen Qiushi hadn't given up and was still persevering bitterly.

Wen Zhi analyzed, "This spear technique doesn't seem like the several sets commonly circulated in the military. It feels like it combines the strengths of various schools, and is a spear technique created by fusion. Did Sun Xiangzong create this technique?

"But the problem is, the Selected Point competition isn't over yet, so where did he get this spear technique from? Did Sun Xiangzong take a fancy to him in advance?"

"The young man surnamed Chen is on good terms with the Young Master of the Sun Family. It's not unusual for him to learn some spear techniques, and it's no big deal."

All these geniuses, which one learns a normal Cultivation Technique?

"Hmm, my son lost fairly."

Wen Zhi looked towards the city wall, where the Supervisor, with an elderly and debilitated appearance, was stationed: "Even Martial Saints like us will significantly decline in strength as we age; everyone says he is almost dead, so how could he kill Ning Changqun in one move? That Ning Changqun is even stronger than the two of us! How much longer must we endure him?"

A considerable part of the military supplies for the Eight Camps needs to be donated by them, and the amount is astronomical.

Furthermore, with broad jurisdiction, their income in various aspects is also diminished.

It can be said that wherever the Eight Camps go, no one doesn't hate Sun Xiangzong.

But hate is useless, and they can only hate in their hearts, hoping the other party would quickly die.

"Let's not talk about that for now."

Shao Yujing said, "Your lad will die if he keeps fighting like this. Is he not going to admit defeat?"

...

"Wuu wuu wuu... I..."

Wen Qiushi wanted to shout out the words "I admit defeat," but no matter what, he couldn't do it. His mouth was a bloody mess, his teeth shattered like sand, and he kept spitting out the thick, bloodied saliva. Even as he desperately tried to block with his twin blades, the vulnerabilities were increasingly numerous.

"Zi!"

"Zi!"

Each of his mistakes was accurately captured, followed by another bloody hole in his body. Even if not fatal, he wouldn't last long.

How many holes can a living person endure?

Wen Qiushi didn't even have the chance to escape by jumping off the arena. The moment he stopped, there would only be one outcome: death. He could only endure the severe pain and emit pitiful "wuu wuu ah ah" noises, hoping to convey his intent to admit defeat and be saved through these sounds.

...

"Admit defeat!"

Outside the arena, Wen Zhi shouted loudly, "Stop, admit defeat, we admit defeat!"

No one paid attention.

He tried to enter the arena but was once again blocked by a forest of spears.

"Master Wen, no one can disrupt the order of the Selected Point!"

"General."

Wen Zhi pointed toward the arena, and the Martial Saint's voice was extremely frantic: "My son is admitting defeat; he has admitted defeat. Quickly go up and pull them apart!"

"Nonsense."

An older General Tongmai said, "Your son is clearly giving his all in battle, a true iron-blooded hero. Master Wen, as a father, don't spoil your son."

"Mouth!"

The direction of the two on the platform shifted.

Only then did Wen Zhi finally see his son's mangled face, and he roared, "He can't shout out his surrender, someone save him, quick!"

"Oh?"

The old general squinted towards the scene and said slowly, "It does seem like it indeed."

...

As the combat onstage reached this point, the onlookers also noticed something was amiss.

"Hiss!"

Mr. Hou was engrossed and clicked his tongue in amazement, "This Mr. Chen is interesting. By injuring the opponent's mouth so he can't speak, he can keep beating him up. He's planning to kill someone!"

"So young, yet so ruthless."

Pei Tiannan commented, "Mr. Chen really is good officer material, but isn't this a bit excessive?"

"Excessive?"

Mr. Hou scoffed, "Mr. Pei, didn't you see Wen Qiushi fighting with Tang Yingke with intent to kill earlier?"

"Oh?"

Pei Tiannan said, "What Mr. Hou is suggesting is that Mr. Chen is avenging Young Master Tang?"

"Exactly!" Mr. Hou nodded.

Tang Yingke was in the corner of the Martial Arts Arena, hastily treating his wounds. He couldn't misunderstand the situation, and his pupils trembled uncontrollably, unable to speak for a while.

"Brother Tang, do you see that?"

Bai Thingzhi spoke excitedly, "General Chen is avenging you! You've got to remember this favor!"

...

"Stop!"

The General in charge of invigilating finally confirmed that the Young Master of Moon Splitting Mountain Villa was indeed trying to admit defeat with his wailing, and he hurriedly rushed over.

"Wuu wuu ah—"

Wen Qiushi's movements became completely disordered, and it was unclear what he was saying, but the distinct sobbing was audible. His body had seven to eight bloody holes, sparing only his vital parts!

And from the start of the duel to this moment,

Only three rounds had passed, which was the time for a few deep breaths.

The others managed to respond at this time, and that was already quite fast.

As Chen Sansi saw the invigilating General rushing towards him, the Blood of Dragon Elephant in his body surged even faster. Under the extreme Blood Movement, the power and speed of his spear in hand climbed another level.

Wen Qiushi's strength was truly not bad. Since Chen Sansi began practicing Martial Arts, this was the first time he felt it was so difficult to kill someone. Those ring-head knives always managed to protect the crucial parts at the last moment, but computing the time, it was about sufficient. Just a bit faster!

"Mr. Chen, have you gone mad?"

Several Selected Spear Generals who had been eliminated from the competition were watching nearby, and they all showed expressions of incomprehension.

Must he kill?

Isn't he afraid?

"Wen Qiushi's father is the Manor Master of Moon Splitting Mountain Villa, a Martial Saint!"

"Mr. Chen, please cease!"

"..."

Weapons in the arena don't discriminate, and there is no need to take responsibility for life or death.

That is the rule.

But in reality, how many dare to abide by it?

It wasn't the ones with strong backgrounds who generally got hurt; even if their opponents were stronger, they always tried to hold back. As for those without such powerful backing, they didn't have such considerations and often had to face their opponents' full onslaught.

This Mr. Chen...

"Madman!"

Yan Changqing's heart pounded incessantly.

On the arena.

Both of Wen Qiushi's wrists, as if bitten by venomous snakes, had their tendons shredded, rendering him unable to hold onto his ring-head knives, thus also losing his final means of self-protection.

He raised his hands, about to kneel and beg for mercy.

A pity.

He wasn't even given the chance to kneel.

"Stop!"

"Stop—"

"Pu-chi—"

The reed-leaf long spear met its destination right before the other man could kneel, piercing through his heart. Warm blood sprayed out, scattering in the air like a blooming blood-red lotus.

"Buzz!"

The judge general's large hand grasped the spear shaft.

But alas, it was too late.

Supported by the long spear, Wen Qiushi's body was frozen in a rigid state, halfway to kneeling, with his head drooping powerlessly, his blood dripping down his chin. It hung suspended midair due to its viscosity rather than dropping to the ground, and the whole person resembled nothing more than a corpse.

"You..."

The judge general looked at the spear-holder, his expression somewhat complex, "He had already surrendered, yet you still delivered a fatal blow."

"General, he didn't shout out,"

Chen Sansi looked utterly clueless: "So, this doesn't break the rules, does it?"

Experience tales with empire

"No, it doesn't."

The judge general, however, started to smile: "Dead is considered surrendering."

Earlier.

When Tang Yingke shouted "I surrender," it was also his responsibility to stop the match.

That man had truly cried out.

Mr. Wen didn't afford him any face either.

Dead, that's what he deserved!

It could only be said that he brought it upon himself, beyond any help.

The judge general let go of the spear, too indolent to even bother with the body, simply leaping away. What did it have to do with him?

"My son!!!"

"Boom—"

In the distance.

Wen Zhi shattered the spear in front of him with a palm strike, trying to rush onto the stage, but was again stopped by a new wall of people. Beside him, a mountainous figure appeared.

"Ji!"

Wen Zhi came to an abrupt stop, his voice trembling but not moving further: "He killed my son!"

"The young master did not call out his surrender."

Ji's expression remained calm: "The judge officer also attempted rescue, everything complied with the rules, and we favored no sides. I hope Master Wen won't cause groundless trouble."

"Ah! I will kill him!"

Wen Zhi shouted, "Ji, are you really going to stand in my way?!"

"Being upset for the death of a son, what's there to be excited about?"

Ji frowned impatiently: "Don't you still have two sons? The youngest one, he has the Body of Martial Saint; just cultivate him anew. The rules are the rules, I advise you not to do anything you will regret. If that happens, even I cannot help you."

"You..."

Wen Zhi's face turned a murderous red, veins bulging. He looked at the Sun Xiangzong atop the city wall with no reaction, then at Ji, and eventually, he had no choice but to shatter a giant stone pillar on the edge of the Martial Arts Arena with a powerful punch.

His teeth clenched in rage, his voice tinged with mockery: "Ji, you don't need to scare me! Better consider your own position! How many years have you been a Martial Saint, and yet you haven't broken through, or is it that Sun Xiangzong won't teach you? Now, this final Selected Spear tournament is being passed to someone else, yet you're still standing here, playing his dog?!"

"That's not something for Master Wen to worry about."

Ji, with his eyes closed: "Someone, bring Master Wen's eldest son's corpse to him."

"Yes!"

"Snap!"

Soon enough, the blood-soaked body was laid before him.

"By participating in the Selected Point, one consents to enlist. And where there is enlistment, death is expected; this is a preparation everyone should make well in advance."

The elderly general said with disdain: "Master Wen, don't disappoint us."

"Old Wen,"

Shao Yujing patted his shoulder: "Keep your cool, your second and third sons are still waiting for you to return. Let's go."

After pounding the ground with more than a dozen furious punches, Wen Zhi cast a venomous glance at Chen Sansi on the stage before finally lifting up the corpse of his eldest son and leaving with heavy steps.

At the exit of the Military City, he was blocked by a wheelchair.

"Fang Qingyun?"

Wen Zhi questioned: "What do you want now?"

"Here to remind Master Wen of something."

Fang Qingyun's voice came calmly: "According to the rules, you are not to seek any private vengeance either. Otherwise..."

"I know, there's no need for you to say it!"

Wen Zhi punctuated each word: "Step aside!"

"Merely saying it doesn't suffice."

Fang Qingyun spoke evenly: "For the forthcoming period, should anything untoward happen to Chen Sansi or any of his family, even to a maid in his house, Master Wen had best be prepared with compelling evidence of his innocence. Otherwise, you won't be exempt from an inquisition."

"Is this Sun Xiangzong's intention? He... is protecting this person so much?!"

Wen Zhi's features contorted in fury: "What, if someone else wants to kill him soon, should I serve as his bodyguard?!"

"That depends on how Master Wen interprets it,"

Fang Qingyun glanced at the Martial Arts Arena: "Anyway, that's the rule. If a son of a Martial Saint is to be avenged for being killed, then we might as well forget about clear rewards and punishments, let it go. This is the foundation of our Eight Camps, you should understand.

"One last thing, my master has been somewhat emotionally unstable these past two years, so..."

"I, understand."

Wen Zhi managed to squeeze out a few words with difficulty.

What could he do?

What did it matter if he was a Martial Saint?

In other places, a Martial Saint is indeed a Saint!

But here, in the vicinity of the Eight Camps... really worth nothing!

He could only hope that Sun Xiangzong would die soon and restore peace to the world.